All's Fair in Love and War
by Pandiichan
Summary: Oneshot. Sequel to "Second's Notice". Fishing lure? Toilet paper? Tissue paper? English lessons to an odd-acting Kurt? This was all one big sentence of destruction and embarrassment given to Mimi when she visits the Institute with Zeta.


All's Fair in Love and War

**AN: **Thanks to _**Morning-Sunset **_for reviewing me again and for giving me the motivation to make a sequel to Kurt's and the idea to make a concluding sequel that will follow this one! Part of story comes from the real book _Girl in Hyacinth Blue _copyrights and ownership to Susan Vreeland! X-Men goes to the comic writers and such...Mimi and Zeta belong to moi.

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_When it all happened, faster than I could blink, my head was suddenly a tilt-a-whirl! Kurt was kissing me and he just came out of nowhere. It was odd to feel furry lips pressed up against mine…but as odd and twisted as it was…it felt __**right**__;_ _maybe it was the spur of the moment, but it felt honest. Good. Done by faith._

_His lips receded and despite how quickly he'd come upon me with the wordless smooch, he was leaving much slower. Part of me didn't want him to leave, the other half of me knew it was okay—at least he'd be safe returning to that school. My lips were numb and tingly, live with bubbling and I inhaled sharply. Bad thing to admit, but at the age of sixteen, that was my first kiss ever. Conservatism was to blame for that, but it was amazing…either that or I'd lucked out and found me a good smoocher on what could be the first relationship I'll ever have._

_At first I'd looked at him funny because he was blue, and fuzzy, almost like a bipedal teddy bear with a slinky devil's tail and three fingers to each hand (all I knew was the fact that he was a mutant) that freaked me out. For a moment my whole body tensed, pre-kiss, and I thought horrible scenarios like being bitten into, killed, or dragged off…you know, the scary cliché TV stuff…but no, a harmless kiss. Kurt really wasn't a bad person, with what little time I could briefly observe him with while tending to Zeta on my little-less-than-frequent trips to her new school I could gather that much of him. Now I have an adequate reason to visit and ask him what in the world the randomness of it all was for! Sheesh talk about giving a girl a heart attack!_

_Arg…well, it's a good thing I can't really –as I normally can do—put anything else together while pondering this because apparently I am being "summoned" as I like to call it. "Lady Zeta" calls (Insert sarcastic 'whoop-de-doo!' here)_

_Yours Truly, _

_Mimi._

_

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_

I hope he never finds out about that diary entry, I feel like such a dork for writing it now. Suddenly I found myself at the gates of Zeta's "Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters" and I felt very much like a thief, coming back to the scene--source--of the crime to possibly take more. I stole words from my mind and wrote about him. Basically stealing a fraction of him and smashing him nicely in the pages of my diary, hoping to write more concerning the blue-furred member of the X-Men in this post-street kiss adventure. Zeta plopped herself down on the sunny patch of grass before an old oak tree that had moss decorating and overlapping the branches as she rudely shoved my hands into her hair. Believe it or not, I'm actually the older one…well…with how Zeta can act (rather childish) I'm sure that's probably not too hard to figure, but she's oh-so spoiled in the idea that I should cater to her simply because she drags me around.

This factor is how I get roped into braiding her hair a gazillion times due to how she adores the feeling of hair playing. There he was. Sitting there, on that same bench; knees pressed to his stomach and head perched intently in close observation. Chills ran over me…it looked like he was staring into my soul with so adorably confused and calculating eyes. Zeta reclined, pressing her heavier weight down on me (she's not fat, but compared to me she's a good thirty pounds heavier, she's in an average weight zone. I'm not, thanks to my metabolism which means I'm going to have to fork over tons of cash to get a boob job, should I want one) and making a content squeal that died off as a shadow loomed over us. At first, by obvious reasons I thought it would be Kurt but no, it was that Logan guy. "Hey," his gruff voice broke Zeta's happy serene existence on the grasses of the Xavier land, "your turn to do the dishes."

"Nnngh," the usual lazy defiant cry of the Zeta in her natural habitat. Ah, stuff like this makes me want to laugh, you know, my self-narrations that sound like a _National Geographic_ episode? If I ever said even half the stuff I wanted to—about Zeta—I probably wouldn't be alive after the first twenty, especially on my bad days (those are rare though, anyways, drawing myself back into this oh-so _wonderful _conversation occurring), "Make Kurt do it!" she'll try and shirk her responsibilities only for a couple of minutes and then stomp of childishly to get her chores done with. Still in the resisting phase the male before her crossed his muscled arms and gave her a dry look of pressed-lip 'I don't give a shit' before nudging her again, just to annoy her.

"Elf's inside," he explained dully, stepping out of the way to reveal that our observer was indeed gone. Zeta howled in frustration and sat up, relieving me of pressure and slight body heat on the slightly sticky day to retreat to the patient dishes which were regarded with fierce scrubbing and unbridled hostility. Poor dishes. There was a second cry of rage, this one sounding like a male's voice, and Kurt literally seemed to jump out of thin air grinning widely at me.

"You vill come and see!" the German accent was throwing me off a little, with all the 'v' sounds substituted for 'w's in his words. "I set up trap in kitchen and Logan and Zeta caught it!"

"Stepped right into it, you mean." Bad habit of mine, correcting people. One day –hopefully soon—I'll be finishing some needed courses to be an English major, than I can help foreigners like Kurt out. Zeta wasn't lying when she said his language use was like the 'Death Star' (not fully operational). He nodded excitedly and in a small whirlwind –a slightly smelly one—placed us in the kitchen. As much as I tried to restrain myself it was impossible! Logan and Zeta were wrapped in a mix of fishing line, toilet paper and tissue paper, the three "ropes" of this trap being compressed by dangling objects hooked on to the strongest of the three, the fishing line.

Logan and Zeta were so close it was impossible for either of them to get out, they'd be stuck there for a while (this was, of course, what I thought BEFORE knowing he had metallic claws in his hands. Spoilsport) and it was oh-so cute. They were so angry and really made a cute couple together, I thought. "Is impossible to trick Kurt Wagner without payback coming."

"For right now," Zeta huffed as she tried to wiggle something loose enough to dislodge a line, or break one of the flimsier ones, "I'll say that was a decent sentence from you, German boy." He made faces at the two like a child. A few things I've noticed about Kurt:

A . He tries to make people feel better

B. Very vindictive when he needs to be (whether he knows it or not)

C. His mood is similar to a happy-go-lucky child

D. The boy is very gymnastically-endowed

E. Apparently he's like the Energizer Bunny; I've NEVER seen him tired.

F. Very observant

G. Trickster…slick in his own weird way.

This scene in the kitchen of the Xavier Institute was only the point and case of 'B' and 'G' on my mental list. "You'll get yours, elf," Logan spat, "just you wait!"

"Ah, okay Logan. You and Zeta stay all bundled up, I return later, ja?"

"_TIED _up!" Zeta corrected him in a bellow that made me flinch. He smiled and waved at them before showing me back to the door with a sunshine-yellow entry carpet granted by the large, gaseous object suspended in the sky. He sat beneath the oak tree which was—to me—unofficially Zeta's and curled up again, matching composure to the bench. He patted the grass next to him as my heart went rampant and possibly took off to a safe house in my lower stomach.

"You read book, ja?" he saw the book that had been rudely shoved out of the bassinet the crook of my arm usually swaddled it in and I nodded, dragging the periwinkle cover back over into my embrace.

"Yes," I could only answer politely, nibbling on the inside of my right cheek to keep at bay the gnawing habit of correction. It wasn't his fault.

"You read book to me? You always read somezing, this time you read to me? Is good book?" I grinned. The little kid was becoming evident. He was such a confused sweetheart! How could anyone resist? That and he might pick up some more English from being read to.

"Sure," uneasily I cracked _Girl in Hyacinth Blue _by Susan Vreeland and began where I'd left off this morning before coming over here. I had to admit, getting minimal sun but feeling the sensation, and being blanketed by shade, this was a supreme candidate for my new reading spot. I could make lessons out of reading to Kurt. _Make an excuse to spend TIME with Kurt…_shaking my head, pushing all of my hair to one side and letting the thought fall to the ground I resumed on page 241, not far from the end at all.

_Her heart cracked._

_The rest was a blur of sound. It finally went to a man who kept conferring _("Conferring means 'to check with', like asking if it's okay.")_ with his wife, which she took as a good sign that it was going to a nice family. Forty-seven guilders. Most of the paintings were sold for much more, but forty-seven was fine, she thought. In fact, it filled her momentarily with what she'd been taught was the sin of pride. Then she thought of Hendrick and pain lashed through her _("No, Kurt," there was a pause and he looked up at me with wide eyes I couldn't help but pat his forehead for, "she's not going to die.")_. Forty-seven guilders minus the auctioneer's fee didn't come close to what her family owed him._

Insert a brief Q & A here before reading a little bit more until we now happen upon the bottom of said page. We've been on this page for ten minutes and counting, mind you, but I can't be snappy at his innocent curiosity. Being addicted to the bouts of lovely English roused in this world, in all its forms, it's hard for me to deny the baited breath of one who cannot indulge in this as I can. Refocusing on the page, I hadn't even realized until it was everything but convenient to see Zeta dragging limbs of tissue paper, toilet paper, and shimmering fishing lure behind her. Kurt's gentle weight on my shoulder hadn't registered in my mind either…hoo, what a bad Psychology student I was proving to be at that moment.

Surprisingly enough that teleporting experience I had earlier (which I had mistakenly categorized as a whirlwind) wasn't occurring, we were practically running for our lives! Logan stood waiting with his trademark 'crossed arms' appearance and Kurt quickly skidded to a halt, looping around the man and dragging me with him. "Herauf!" he exclaimed, hastily dashing up stairs and clenching my arm as we made it into a slightly dark space with only shelves of light peeking through white blinds. His room, if I had to guess. Let me tell you something, this is not how I expected to be in a guy's room that I hardly knew for the first time, and I sure as all get-out didn't think the eyes looking at me frantically would be _bright glowing yellow_!

"Jee!" it was my 'holy crap, I'm freaked out and that was sudden!' startled cry. He covered my mouth quickly with the only three digits he had on that hand.

"Is need be quiet, ja? They find us and result will not be beautiful." Again, despite the situation, I wanted to correct him _so bad_! The door burst open and Kurt jumped back, putting me behind him as I realized with icy fear that Zeta's eyes were now a strawberry red. She was using her ability. Note: her ability affects the sympathetic nervous system found within the body. Extra note: that means no matter what you want your body to do it over-relaxes and leaves you pretty much a rag doll.

"Nein!" I felt proud of myself, I knew THAT word, 'no', and of course, like the good mutant he is, he caught me as my body fell towards the floor. His could put up a better fight, but not much of one. Soon we were both set in the hammock that he'd put in the corner of his room, the cool corner, and tied together in a bed sheet now bearing battle wounds at the mercy of Logan's newly-revealed steel claws. The two left us—quite satisfied with their work—and we were left to stare at one another; tied face-to-face, and trying to avoid the embarrassing truth of close contact. His minty breath curled in my nostrils and the blue-furred boy (watch taken off upon rounding up of us) blinked his lemony eyes at me.

"Hands are not pervert," he promised, breaking the lulling silence fornicating with the idea of sleep, "closeness is making hands have closeness which is not vhat I vant in case closeness makes you feel not well…" his eyes were so helpless and obviously sad that I couldn't help but smile and lean my forehead to his while the blazing notice of 'jargon' sounded in my brain. He truly was unique.

"I realize this, it's due to circumstance." Silence lapsed.

"You continue to teach me English vhen we escape?"

"Of course. If you teach me German…"

"Ja, we start there. 'Ja' is German way of saying 'yes'. Agreeing." His fur skirted against my own face and I smiled a little.

"What was it you said on the stairs? Hare-huff…or, you know, that word…" a laugh escaped him and almost rocked us out of the hammock.

"Is sorry, but you say German as bad as my English. Is okay, we fix. _Herauf _means 'up' like we go up stairs of Institute to be here."

"Oh okay, what else can you teach me."

"Okay, you will repeat when finished. Küssen Sie mich?"

"Küssen sei mich?" I replied back confusedly. It sounded like it had something to do with cushion like, maybe, he was saying 'can we have a cushion for the hammock?' He grinned.

"Ja." He pressed his lips to mine and my eyes widened, watching large yellow eyes glint and stare into mine. I was tricked! That German dork tricked me!

"Kurt!" I exclaimed when he pulled away, trying to shake the novicain-esk sensation from my lips. For the first time in my life I saw a blue devil truly content. He nuzzled the soft underside of my chin and I flushed. "What on earth did you have me say?"

"Kiss me." He replied simply, still grinning. "As Beast once tell me, "All is fair in love undt war". Ve have been fair in war to Logan undt Zeta so ve had to be true to us undt love." Maybe he wasn't as English-illiterate as he let on. Amazing. Creepy; smart of him, but amazing. For the longest time –the yearning of persistence to learn German, and he, English dead—we just kissed. Stupid, I know, but it was harmless, so we continued. Only until we actually fell asleep did Logan end up cutting us loose.

Waking up I saw him snoring and tail swishing contently, poking through the holes of the hammock and wriggling like a live fish as his mouth –fangs displayed—inhaled the air around us. Gently I laid a hand on his cheek and the mutant stirred, lazily glancing upon me and grin maturing into a full-blown one. "I voke up earlier and you still slept," his fingers brushed across my face. "You like child vhen you sleep." The male teased. I grinned.

All _was _fair in love and war…for now. Definitely, I can assure you, we'd be getting each other back for such endearing but childish comments. Kurt was definitely on my list for the German lesson trick. This went along the lines of what we had in store for Logan and Zeta, planned by God (the idea of retribution, I mean). Apparently the partial-couple rivalry (Zeta and Wolverine's –weird codename, but Kurt's ended up being Nightcrawler so I was like 'okay then…(insert odd face here)—was more of a 'behind closed doors' type secrecy (evidently escalating) but we soon found that their little stunt that put us up in the hammock was about to be given the proper retribution, six fold.

It would be a six-year-old stew of innocent, conniving, fake-angel-truly-joker hilarity that had a five letter, one word synonym to hell for the also X-Men pair: Shade.


End file.
